


I Can't Feel My Face (When I'm Not With You)

by ChaTianShi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Codependency, Confessions, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, References to Depression, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:51:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaTianShi/pseuds/ChaTianShi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jongdae, please... I love you."</p><p>Jongdae grimaces, eyes still streaming with silent tears. "Xing... You always say that when you're high." He pulls away. "You only say it when you're high."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Feel My Face (When I'm Not With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is no way intended to be accurate descriptions of any EXO members and other depicted persons, places, things, or events. They are solely the products of imagination and should be strictly regarded as such.
> 
> ***Warnings for drug use, references to previous drug addiction/overdose, and using drugs while suffering with depression. (I want to be clear that I'm not trying to glamourise anything portrayed in this fic, and without consulting a doctor, highly discourage anyone taking recreational drugs to treat a mental illness.)
> 
> Title from the song 'Can't Feel My Face' by The Weeknd.

Yixing moans aloud when the joint hits him, hits him properly. It's relief and warmth and oh, he's missed it so much. There's a hot feeling travelling over his whole body, making his fingers twitch and his head loll against the back of the sofa. He’s beautifully light-headed and he feels the tension in his back begin to unwind. He brings his hand to his mouth again, fitting his lips around the joint and sucking deeply. It's like heaven; so good after so long. Why did he ever stop? Why would he ever give this up?

The realisation creeps up on him as he mellows out. Jongdae... Jongdae was why. Oh… he’d promised Jongdae he'd stop...but it was so hard, why did he even make that promise? He's tried so hard and things had only gotten worse. Jongdae had told him that things were always worse before they got better, but Yixing has never experienced anything to support that claim. Things got better when he was completely baked and everything looked so much prettier than it was in real life. Things got better when he felt the bright anticipation in his tummy, his thumb flicking over the lighter, and the moment his lips touched the rolling paper. 

It makes him want to write, makes his fingers itch to lazily strum his guitar; melodies run through his head but he can't keep track of them. He puts his earphones in, selecting the playlist he uses for zoning out and _fuck_ \- The music shoots through his body like he was drinking it, like it's a drug itself and oh, he could stay like this forever.

His promise to Jongdae is prickling at the back of his mind though, and it's making his legs bounce with misplaced nervousness. He can't really feel nervous when he's like this though, it's more like a ghost, the ghost of anxiety. Everything pales away when he drags another breath through the joint in his fingers. 

He can hardly remember what had made him crack. Was it... Oh. He'd lost his job. He'd lost his job and he hadn’t wanted to tell Jongdae, he’d been ashamed because he didn't know if his roommate would be able to cover the rent by himself. But he doesn't feel bad about it now, knows that they'll find a way to deal with it somehow. Jongdae's so good at that. Fixing things. 

Yixing closes his eyes, his body finally relaxing fully as he thinks about his roommate. Jongdae is more like his guardian angel. He might not believe he's perfect but he is so much better than Yixing. He doesn't even need to get high to feel good, he doesn't need to do stupid reckless stuff to remind himself he's still alive. He doesn’t need Yixing around all the time.

Yixing fidgets sluggishly in his seat, wanting to talk to someone maybe, to touch; filled with a sudden desire to see his friend and a head rush that makes his vision blur a little. He wonders when Jongdae will be back home. He misses Jongdae a lot these days, because they're both always working as much as they can, because they don't want to be stuck here forever, because it costs so much to live in the city but it's where they have to be. He wishes he had some recordings of Jongdae singing because he'd listen to him all the time, Jongdae's voice running down his spine in gorgeous, ringing Korean. 

He runs a hand over his own chest, undoing his shirt buttons because his skin is hot and he wants to feel good. He’s not sure where he chucks his shirt because his equilibrium is off – it bothers him a bit. Recently, he's been dancing hard in all the spare time he has, because it releases tension and Jongin, his dance teacher dongsaeng, keeps telling him he has a lot of potential and it's some sort of poison to his ears. It makes him desperate to achieve, desperate to succeed, stops him from thinking about anything else until he gets the praise he needs. He kind of hates it. 

He hates trying hard without it paying off, because it makes him feel empty, and because Jongdae's been doing so well, going to interviews with recording companies while Yixing is still at his crumby day job, still bussing tables and still scribbling out song lyrics in his breaks with nothing to show for it. He tries to be optimistic, and he often can't help it when Jongdae's around because Jongdae's smile has always been highly contagious to him, and he likes the way that Jongdae whines until he cheers up and does whatever Jongdae wants to do. But it's not sustainable. When Jongdae's not around and he needs someone to bounce ideas off of, when he's tired of his work colleagues mimicking his accent, when he comes home to Jongdae already asleep and wakes up to him already having left for work- 

He takes another long drag; his chest burns. He shouldn't worry about it. He shouldn't worry about any of it. He feels nice like this, spread out across the sofa now with his arms above his head and his hips softly rocking to the music in his ears. He feels vulnerable and open and sexy.

He gets lost in his thoughts, lost in the heavy bass that threatens to drown him right there in that room. He’s letting the smoke go to his brain, letting it light him up everywhere, letting it build up and pull him somewhere he can’t reach by himself. Then he's brutally shaken from his stupor with a harsh slap to the face.

As his eyes blink open lethargically, he makes out the shape of Jongdae standing over him, his mouth moving but with no words coming out. He works to understand why before his earphones are roughly ripped out of his ears. 

"What the fuck?!" Jongdae shouts at him, but it's not a shout really, it's just his normal voice turned shaky and hysterical. Yixing would know if Jongdae was shouting, he had some lungs on him. It suits him, strangely, being worked up like this.

"Jongdae." Yixing feels like he should comfort him, trying to push himself up and reach out to Jongdae. But Jongdae flinches away. Something stings then, and it's not his cheek.

"Hyung, you promised." Jongdae says, looking confused and _betrayed_ , and it pulls Yixing's heart, trying to remind him of all the shit he'd been trying to bury. Instinctively, he goes to take a drag from the joint still hanging between his fingers, but realises his mistake as Jongdae's eyes widen. He puts it out on the coffee table, smiling apologetically.

"What are you doing, Yixing?!" He's dropped the honorific and he breaks off, tearing up. Yixing manages to stand, and heads towards him as he backs away. "You promised." He says again, and his eyelashes are so long and wet. "What else did you take?" He chokes out. "What else did you fucking take, you liar! Goddamn it!" He shouts properly that time, pushing at Yixing's bare chest. Pushing him away, hitting him, and shoving him weakly until Yixing pulls him closer and wraps his arms around Jongdae's slim frame. Jongdae belongs with him like this.

Jongdae's sobbing into his chest, shaking against him, asking him why, hitting his forehead against Yixing's shoulder. "I'm sorry." Yixing says into Jongdae's hair. He is sorry, so sorry that he upset Jongdae like this because he hadn't actually meant to ruin Jongdae's day as well. He'd just wanted to disappear for a bit. He'd just wanted to forget. Jongdae didn't understand.

"You promised me you wouldn't. You promised me you'd tell me if you couldn't handle it."

Yixing can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying, because he doesn't break his promises. His head is spinning, and Jongdae’s touch on his bare skin is hot and scary. Because he's wanted to tell Jongdae what was going on for ages, but every time he'd been about to, he'd see how happy Jongdae was talking about his upcoming auditions, and all the cool people he was meeting, and he couldn't bring himself to ruin it. He didn't know how to say he'd floated too far out to sea when it was so much easier to watch Jongdae laugh happily on the shore. Easier to pretend he was waving at him than desperately calling for help.

Jongdae's hand comes up to rest on the nape of his neck, and Yixing clocks out properly, vision blacking out for a bit as both of them cry, shaking and standing there in that hazy, smoke-filled room. His heart feels like it’s going to beat right through his chest into Jongdae’s. It takes him a long time to realise that Jongdae's anxiously asking him something again. 

"What else did you take? You can tell me, come on, please, you need to tell me, Xing. What did you take?" His hand is stroking through the hair on the back of Yixing's head, trying to keep his voice steady even though his breath is still hitching from the crying.

Yixing also works hard to talk around the giant lump that’s appeared in his throat. "Just that… I promise. I- I didn't take anything else, I promise, Jongdae, I didn't." He coughs roughly. "I promise, I promise-"

Jongdae shushes him, his other arm curling around Yixing's waist and stroking up and down his back. "It's alright. I believe you."

He directs them to their shared bedroom, sitting down on Yixing's bed and encouraging Yixing to lay down and rest his head in Jongdae's lap. He does, curling around his friend and pressing his face into Jongdae's stomach, breathing him in with closed eyes like he was a different type of drug. 

Jongdae lets him have this one though, and he runs his fingers across Yixing's scalp, making him tingle all over, and ignores the way that both of them are still hiccupping in the sobbing aftermath. "I'm sorry for hitting you." He whispers. "Why do you have to scare me like this, hyung?" He speaks like it's meant for himself. "You don't know what it's like, finding you like that. When you know how dangerous it is, how could you? Agh..."

Yixing doesn't reply, doesn't know how to express himself in Korean or Chinese. 

"I'm sorry that I didn't notice." Jongdae whispers after a long while when Yixing’s busy imagining running his hands underneath Jongdae’s clothes. "I'm sorry that I let this happen. I must be so oblivious, what kind of friend am I?"

Yixing groans in protest, nudging his face deeper into Jongdae's stomach because Jongdae hasn't done anything wrong, it's all Yixing, he's the problem, he's always needed Jongdae more than Jongdae needed him. The buzz in his head is so persistent that he can't even acknowledge how intimate and strange this position is for them. He wants to be as close to Jongdae as possible. If he can't get high the way he always has then he needs this, he needs Jongdae. 

He fists his hands in Jongdae's t-shirt, pulling it, not sure what he's asking for, but feeling better when Jongdae manoeuvres him away a little bit and runs his hand over Yixing's face affectionately. He doesn't really want to be numb when he's with Jongdae. Yixing opens his eyes, staring up at him, and he really is like an angel. 

He looks sad though, and Yixing wants to smile, bringing a hand up to touch his face too. Jongdae leans into his palm, his eyes searching, but Yixing can't tell what for with the cloud still hanging over him, slowing him up. Jongdae turns to brush his lips over Yixing's palm suddenly, and it’s like a dam has burst open. He curls his hand around the back of Jongdae's neck, pulling him down, close, closer, until he can taste his hipster rosé mocha breath.

He presses Jongdae's lips against his, feeling a rush of déjà vu, and a warm, deep familiarity that leaves him gasping. He feels like he could live on this instead, a wave of euphoria running through his body, between his legs. It's so good, he needs Jongdae so much. Jongdae looks wrecked, wrecked by one kiss, and so Yixing does it again, just pressing his mouth against Jongdae's, then impatiently kissing his lips, the corners of his mouth, waiting for him to open up, and nuzzles his nose against Jongdae's cheek with a small whine when he is unsuccessful. He can't stop touching him.

"I'm sorry." Jongdae whispers. "I don't want to taste it."

"I love you." Yixing says, the words rolling out before he's even fully conceptualised them. He knows it's true though as he hears them hang in the air. He kisses Jongdae's unresponsive mouth again. "I love you." He loves Jongdae, he loves this, he loves them both together. He needs Jongdae to stay with him like this and help him chase the clouds away.

Only when an itchy tear begins to run down his cheek does he realise that Jongdae's crying again. He doesn't understand, wiping Jongdae's cheeks with his thumbs, chuckling, kissing him again, wishing Jongdae would let him in because he wants to suck Jongdae’s tongue into his mouth. "Jongdae, please... I love you."

Jongdae grimaces, eyes still streaming with silent tears. "Xing... You always say that when you're high." He pulls away. "You only say it when you're high."

Yixing is utterly confused. He thinks he would remember if he'd told Jongdae he _loved_ him, it wasn't just something he said meaninglessly. He blinks slowly, unsure how to make things better, not knowing what to do to bring Jongdae back; to make Jongdae love him back. But then, ah, why would Jongdae love him back...? What is there to love? He's a hindrance in Jongdae's otherwise happy, progressing life. He makes Jongdae cry. He scares him. He makes Jongdae want to hurt him and shout at him. He laughs abruptly and Jongdae looks concerned.

"You're my guardian angel." Yixing says, not sure if he’s slurring his Korean or not.

Jongdae furrows his brow but his lips curve up the tiniest bit. "No I'm not. A guardian angel wouldn't let you get like this." He speaks so softly, as if he's afraid of his own voice. "I've been so focused on myself... I didn't notice."

Yixing's starting to feel so warm and sleepy with him that he can hardly protest. "You're fine, you're perfect..." He mumbles. "My best friend..."

"You're my best friend too." Jongdae says, but Yixing isn't sure if that's true because Jongdae has a lot of friends these days. It feels nice to hear him say it though.

"We'll talk properly tomorrow, okay?" Jongdae says above him, but Yixing is already curling around him again, completely relaxed on the pillow of Jongdae's thighs and Jongdae's hand on his head. 

 

 

 

Yixing wakes up with a heavy head and a serious need for food. Unfortunately, his mission to hurry out of bed and stumble to the kitchen is impeded by a clingy arm around his waist that only tightens as he tries to pry himself away. He doesn't even have the energy to be concerned, because it's obvious who it is. Not that Jongdae and him weren't usually fairly touchy with each other - skinship negative, they were not - but Yixing thinks this is a bit excessive.

"Dae? Dae! Come on... Let me go!" He moans at the dead sleeper behind him. Jongdae keeps himself plastered to Yixing's back, holding him in the bed, and Yixing starts to wonder why Jongdae was in his bed in the first place. It was embarrassingly nice, once he settles down again, indulging and snuggling back a little into Jongdae's chest. Yixing isn't sure why he's playing the little spoon in this equation, but being held by Jongdae is definitely not something he should be turning up considering the little time they got to spend with each other. Perhaps Jongdae had just been cold after coming home from work last night.

Then he remembers. Work. His job. He'd lost his job. Oh god, what is he going to tell Jongdae? He is frozen for a few minutes, his mind running around in circles as he considers how to break it to him. Eventually he spins round so that he is facing Jongdae, and boops their noses together. 

"Jongdae-yah... Chenchen..." Yixing clears his throat. "Wake up..."

Jongdae groans a bit and Yixing waits for his eyes to open. When they finally do, he drags his gaze over Yixing's face and then between their bodies, taking in their positions, and then Yixing watches as Jongdae looks back up at him with hope-filled eyes. It's cute, and he wonders what Jongdae was expecting.

"Are you okay?" Jongdae asks and Yixing shrugs his shoulders. 

"Hungry. You?"

"I'm alright." And then he smiles shyly, which is rather unlike Jongdae, especially when he'd been expecting his friend to tease their position like this. "Warm."

"Yeah, me too; I guess that’s what happens when there's a limpet clinging to you all night."

Jongdae smiles fully then, his hand brushing along the skin of Yixing's hip. "You were cold!"

"Well, I can't say I remember ordering a standard-sized Jongdae blanket, but okay."

Jongdae laughs freely at that before suddenly catching himself. "Wait, you said- You don't remember?"

Yixing makes a face. "Last night? Not really. I must have been super tired, sorry. Either way, better to find you in here than some random stranger, right?" He shivers. "Scary."

Jongdae looks stunned, his hand flinching away from Yixing's body. He has to click his fingers in front of Jongdae's eyes to get him to snap out of it, which is another weird thing. Jongdae schools his face carefully afterwards, not so discreetly pushing space between them and avoiding Yixing's gaze. Yixing can see he's done something wrong, but he doesn't know what. Had Jongdae told him something last night that he was supposed to remember? He really hates forgetting things.

"Sorry... Did you- Was I supposed to remember something? If it's about the rent, Dae... There's something I have to tell you." He steels himself as Jongdae watches him carefully.

"I lost my job." He covers his face with his hands as he says it, unable to handle Jongdae's hard eyes on him. 

"How?" He hears his friend say with disbelief. "What happened?"

"It was stupid, I've just- I've been covering for some of the younger ones for a while now - when they're late, or they miss shifts or make mistakes, and I guess I did it one time too many. My boss said he'd had enough. He just said I was a liar, and he didn't want me around anymore."

Jongdae's voice turns sympathetic. "Hyung..." 

"I'm so sorry, Jongdae. I thought I was doing something good; Sehun and Tao have a lot of problems at home and I didn't want them to get in trouble."

"It's not your fault, hyung."

"But it is!" Yixing smushes his face into his pillow. "I've put so much at risk. What- What are we going to do?"

"We'll work it out. There were some vacancies advertised around where I work, and I can ask for some overtime at the record store. It'll be okay." Jongdae says, his hand reaching out again to uncurl the tight fist Yixing had in the sheets.

Yixing shuffles a little to look at him. "Really?" 

Jongdae gives him a small smile. "You don't need to worry about it, okay?"

Yixing thinks Jongdae’s being way too nice, but still feels a weight lift off of him the way that only happens when his friend’s around. Why was Jongdae like this? Why was he always what Yixing needed, able to make everything better with a few words?

"You shouldn't have to do this." Yixing mumbles.

"You're my best friend." Jongdae says matter-of-factly, but his eyes look sad.

"I'm a terrible friend." Yixing groans. Jongdae taps him lightly on the hand and gives him a disapproving look. Yixing curls their hands together, lazily entwining their fingers.

They share a moment then, and Yixing thinks it's heavier than it should be, and his eyes flick to Jongdae's mouth almost automatically and it worries him. Jongdae breaks away, pulling his hand back.

"Let's go make breakfast." Jongdae says, his voice sounding tight, and Yixing nods, sliding out of bed as Jongdae follows behind him. The first thing that hits him as he opens the door to step out of the room is the smell.

His mouth drops open, realisation and fear clawing at his chest, and he spins around to look imploringly at Jongdae. "Who was smoking?" He says with a shake in his voice. Hoping that Jongdae will rush to reassure him, give him any other explanation, but it's an empty hope.

Jongdae runs a hand over his face, before giving him a look that says  _you know who_.

Yixing's eyes widen. "Jongdae. I'm sorry. I don't- I'm so sorry." _What had he done last night?_ Where had he even picked up the weed? It was so hard to get hold of in short notice in Korea, who had he got it from? He couldn’t remember a thing – what had they even given him?

Jongdae shakes his head, looking strung out. "You already apologised. Let's just have breakfast now."

Yixing nods dumbly as Jongdae walks past him to the kitchen. Yixing manages to navigate the offending joint on the coffee table and flush it down the toilet. He opens most of the windows in the house, and does a thorough sweep of all the furniture with the fabric freshener, spraying Jongdae as well, before washing up and going to change his clothes. He ends up in one of his many tanks and sweatpants, hovering around Jongdae as he quietly fries two eggs.

He wants to slump down and rest his chin on Jongdae's shoulder, apologise over and over for whatever Jongdae had found last night. He feels so guilty, he’d risked more than his health, more than Jongdae’s disapproval – if he hadn’t been careful enough, he could have landed them both in prison. He can hardly get his head around it; he knows he hadn't been feeling his best, well, he'd been feeling like crap actually, but had it been _that_ bad? Apparently it had. He would have expected Jongdae to be angrier with him, he almost wants to be shouted at, the silence is too stifling and he can't tell what his friend is thinking.

"Eat." Jongdae says finally, pushing a bowl of ramyeon into his hands with a fried egg on top. 

They sit on the sofa nearest the windows and eat without speaking. Yixing stares at the place he'd found the joint and tries to remember putting it there. His memories are sketchy though, and they feel more like a dream he might have had last night. He doesn't remember smoking, but he remembers touching, he remembers happy  _kissing_ \- It's all just milky dream stuff. It's nothing that explains what he'd been doing yesterday.

"Hyung." Jongdae says, and his voice is clear and formal. "You need to tell me what made you smoke again."

Yixing looks at him desperately, placing his bowl next to Jongdae's on the coffee table. He needs to provide Jongdae with the reason he’d risked everything they had to get high and he doesn’t have it. "Jongdae, I- I don’t know. I guess, I felt bad after I lost my job... But I…don’t remember anything else." Yixing fidgets. He knows deep down though, that there is one other possibility. He knows how he gets sometimes when he's alone, and he's done well at hiding it from Jongdae up to this point. He knows that there are times he feels so dark and lost by himself, knows it’s not normal – and it’s been happening more often recently; now that Jongdae's been leaving earlier and coming home later, sometimes not coming home at all. 

Jongdae is fixing him with a hard stare. "Are you lying to me?"

"N- No!" But the stammer gives him away, as does the sudden heat in his cheeks.

Jongdae sighs. "Do you remember when you promised me that you'd tell me if you ever felt that low? If you felt like you were in danger of relapsing?"

Yixing nods dumbly, his hands starting to shake. 

"You need to tell me now. I don't know what's made you think that you can't, hyung. What have I done to make you think you can't talk to me?"

Yixing shakes his head, scared to speak now because he's not sure what will come out. Jongdae leans closer to him on the small two-seater sofa. Yixing pulls his knees to his chest like a barrier. He can smell the weed on Jongdae’s clothes even through the fabric freshener, and Yixing only feels more and more paranoid over what had happened between them last night.

Jongdae is getting frustrated at his continued silence, making an irritated sound and running his hands over his face again, before massaging his temples with his fingertips. "You won't let me help." He's horrified to hear the tremor in Jongdae's voice. "Why won't you let me help?"

Yixing can't. He can't ask more of Jongdae than he already has. He can't make Jongdae feel guilty for leaving the house when he's working so hard. Why does he have so many problems? It's so selfish. How can he do that to him? "I- You- You wouldn't understand. It's nothing, really, it's nothing."

This is evidently the wrong thing to say as Jongdae tenses up before standing up and storming across the room. Yixing is stunned into stillness on the sofa, too scared to speak. Jongdae's back is to Yixing as he leans his head against the wall and speaks lowly.

"I can't take this, hyung. I can't take this rollercoaster; I'm not strong enough. I'm sorry."

Yixing swallows thickly. He should have seen this coming. "Jongdae- Please, I just don't want to give you more to think about-"

"More to think about?!" He explodes, spinning around to face Yixing and Yixing shuts up like a clam. "Oh my god, hyung. Are you going to make me say it?"

Yixing's mouth hangs open like a fish. "I...don't..."

"You don't know? Yes, I'm brutally aware that you don't know."

Jongdae looks so on edge that Yixing is starting to worry for him. He's tensely shifting his weight left and right, his hands covering his face or fisting at his sides as he watches the ceiling. Then he squares his shoulders and looks Yixing straight in the eyes. 

"Oh my god, okay. Yixing. Hyung. I'm-" He covers his mouth in a spastic movement and Yixing can see that his eyes are shining but he's frozen where he is. It's almost impossible to watch as he starts to cry. Yixing is utterly shocked. He's suddenly standing like his body is on autopilot and he tries to wrap his arms around his friend but Jongdae pushes him away.

"Stop, please stop..." Yixing says weakly. 

Jongdae meets his eyes and gives him a light slap on his cheek. It's not painful but he's stunned again, his hands hovering near Jongdae like he's a string-puppet.

"I'm in love with you!" Jongdae suddenly cries at him. "I have been since we moved in here! I fucking love you. Okay? So- So get away from me."

Yixing can't breathe. He feels like he's in a dream, he's unable to move, to speak, to do anything but stare at Jongdae as Jongdae continues to cry in front of him. Why? Why? Why? Why would Jongdae say that?

"Why?" Jongdae parrots back at him and he realises he's spoken it aloud. Jongdae laughs but it sounds heart-breaking. "Because you're my best friend? Because you make me forget about all the crap in my life? Because you're impossible? And I was disgusting enough to consider maybe not discouraging the marijuana because-" He chokes up again. "Because it was the only time you'd look at me the way I looked at you."

Yixing blinks at him. Oh, _Jongdae_. He reaches out for him again and Jongdae squirms but ultimately doesn't attack him, so Yixing hugs him to his chest. "You can't just squish me like this and expect it to fix everything." Jongdae mumbles against the bare skin of his shoulder. Yixing nuzzles his face through Jongdae's mop of curly hair to his neck, planting a single soft kiss there. Jongdae goes rigid in his arms, lifting his shoulder up to his ear violently so Yixing can't reach him. 

"I change my mind. I hate you." Jongdae says, but he sounds breathless.

"Really?" Yixing mouths into the hair above his ear.

"Yes." Jongdae stamps on his foot with a whimper. 

Yixing kisses his cheek harshly in retaliation and Jongdae whines. "I hate you! I hate you!"

Yixing drags his hands over Jongdae's back, loosening him up and burying his face in Jongdae's neck again. "Are you sure?" 

"I fucking hate you, I hate you, I hate you. What's wrong with you?" He's cracking though and Yixing can hear the hint of a smile in his voice.

He directs them backwards, and when the back of his legs hit the edge of the sofa, he falls back and pulls Jongdae down on top of him. Jongdae is a limp weight straddling his body, forehead resting on Yixing's shoulder as he breathes heavily. 

"What are you doing?" He asks.

Yixing runs his hands up the sides of Jongdae's body. "I'm sorry." He murmurs. "You're so precious, I don't know how you could want someone so dysfunctional like me."

"I don't." Jongdae pants. "I hate you now."

"Well," Yixing sighs. "I guess I hate you too." 

Jongdae punches him in the shoulder. "Tell me what you wouldn't tell me."

Yixing slips his fingers underneath the edges of Jongdae's t-shirt just slightly, brushing his fingertips over the cool skin of his hipbone. It's more sensual than it should be, and he feels like he's floating, breathing in so much Jongdae; oh, he is better than any drug. Nothing makes him high like Jongdae does.

"Sometimes I can't stand it when you're away, and I feel so lost when I don't greet you in the morning or tell you goodnight- It's just silly things- I couldn't tell you because it wasn't your fault, because I couldn't make you feel bad about going out and working so hard-"

Jongdae slams his mouth against Yixing's to shut him up. "You're," he speaks between smashing their lips together, "an asshole."

Yixing has closed his eyes, dizzy with the way that Jongdae's hands grip his face. "I'm sorry," he gasps, "I am an asshole, and I'm an idiot, and an addict, and I love you." He kisses him back, desperately, new and familiar all at once.

Jongdae whimpers against his mouth, and then bites Yixing's lower lip spitefully. "You better not keep any shit like that a secret from me ever again." Yixing chews on his own lip, embarrassed. "And look, you've turned me into some sort of sailor, swearing left and right."

"I like it when you swear."

Jongdae's mouth curls up and his eyes twinkle mischievously. "Don't get used to it." He pokes his finger into the dent made by Yixing's dimple. "You're so cute. I hate it. Also, you're not an addict, so shut up."

Yixing pouts. "It's not like I want to be."

"So don't be. Just _please_ tell me when you need help. You need to drop all of this selfish trash right now, hyung, because I can't come home to you in the state you were in last year, okay? I won't do it. You'll fucking kill me."

"I'm sorry." Yixing says again. He has a lot to be sorry for; he needs to be better for Jongdae.

"Don't apologise. Kiss me. I can't believe you made me confess to you."

Yixing tips his head up to reach Jongdae's mouth and pulls them together warmly. He runs his tongue along the line between Jongdae's lips, and when Jongdae opens his mouth eagerly, he feels like he might be swallowed whole. Jongdae's mouth is perfect, impatient and passionate like the rest of him. Yixing doesn't want to stop kissing him ever, has never taken anything that makes him feel _this_ good. Jongdae slides their tongues together like he's some sort of expert at it and Yixing wonders if maybe he is.

"Where'd you learn to kiss?" He asks abruptly.

Jongdae rolls his eyes. "What do you want me to say, hyung? That I've spent my years perfecting my technique using a picture with your face on it? Well, sorry, Prince Zhang, but I may have dated other people in my lifetime." He huffs.

Yixing bursts into giggles at the lofty, defensive look on his face.

"I don't see what's so funny. You should be glad you get to benefit from all my years of training."

Yixing laughs harder, ducking and weaving as Jongdae attempts to silence him with all his years of training. "Someone save me from this trained seducer!" 

Jongdae grabs his wrists then, pinning them to his sides and going in for the kill. Yixing's giggles quickly dry up when Jongdae starts sucking on his neck. "Not laughing now." Jongdae snaps at him. "Don't think I don't know about your crazy neck weakness. I know everything. Just be cool, don't freak out and try to suddenly bed me or something, okay? Warn me first. I'm scared of your hips."

"Okay." Yixing breathes raggedly as Jongdae mouths under his jaw. Oh, gosh, god, golly. He isn't sure if his lap is the best position for Jongdae anymore.

Jongdae's voice addresses him softly then. "I really love you. Do you know? Do you even know how much?"

Yixing entwines their hands together on both sides, his lips twitching. "Show me?"

"Ew, no, don't be greasy, hyung." Jongdae complains whilst kissing along the side of Yixing's throat.

"Sorry again, about the job thing, and the weed thing..." Yixing murmurs, unable to truly get it off his mind.

Jongdae pulls back to look at him, his face serious. "You don't need to stress out about it, alright? As long as you let me help you. And if it'll make you feel better, we can go out today and start job hunting, but I...I kind of want to stay here with you."

Yixing blushes, before agreeing with a little nod. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Jongdae replies, smiling at him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I can't stop thinking about it, you know. I love you. I can't stop thinking it."

Yixing's heart fills with affection and he thinks that Jongdae could be an angel with how beautiful he is. "I love you more," he whispers into his ear.

Jongdae pulls back with disbelief and war in his eyes, and Yixing grins with glee.

"Oh no, you fucking didn't."

**Author's Note:**

> I read a couple of drug-based fics recently and had to write this before I exploded so yeah, I wrote it so quickly I can't even tell if it's complete trash, also I don't why I made jongdae so violent in this fic haha
> 
> um rated mature for the drug stuff, but I wasn't sure really
> 
> /whispers/ my only drug is xingdae


End file.
